


inhale, exhale

by Marshmellowtea



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Asthma, Asthma Attacks, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, kind of. elias is not good at it oof, oh boy what to tag this as, so many tags beginning with a.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmellowtea/pseuds/Marshmellowtea
Summary: Jon struggles to breathe. Elias helps him, naturally.Too bad there's so much baggage between them.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	inhale, exhale

**Author's Note:**

> this is like. such a weirdly venty piece idk i can't really explain myself here

Jon takes off his shoes before clambering up into the bed. 

Elias doesn’t acknowledge him, not that Jon expected him to. Their relationship was strained at the best of times, far too tainted with bad memories and fresh betrayals, and after their argument this morning, it really wasn’t surprising that Elias was feeling less than inclined to greet him. Honestly, Jon wouldn’t even be here in his room, in his _bed_ , if he weren’t currently struggling to breathe. 

He tucks himself under the covers, and Elias reaches over and brushes his hand over his head as if in greeting. Jon jerks slightly, unable to help himself from flinching at the sudden contact, and Elias is quick to draw his hand away, as if offended by the involuntary gesture. Hell, he probably is. He never likes it when Jon flinches. 

“I see you’re having trouble with your lungs again,” he says smoothly, his fingers returning to their previous activity of tapping something out on his laptop. 

The familiar sound of typing is somewhat comforting, even despite everything. Jon heaves in as deep of a breath that he can manage and rolls onto his back, as if that’ll help him breathe easier. 

It doesn’t. Not a surprise, really. He gasps in another breath, starting to feel a bit lightheaded. 

“I’ve been tellin’ you I need’ta go to a doctor,” he grumbles, shifting a bit so his temple is pressed against Elias’s shoulder. He lays his arms over his stomach, before deciding that puts too much pressure close to his lungs and resting them above his head instead. 

“Hmm.” 

Putting them over his head doesn’t help much either. Jon lets out a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus on Elias’s typing. It’s a distraction, at least. 

Or, it _was_ a distraction. Elias moves his hands off his keyboard, and Jon can hear him putting away his laptop, much to his distress. 

He whimpers again. “Elias...” 

“Sit up.” Elias slides his hand under Jon’s back, lightly pushing him up. “Come on, come on now. Sit up.” 

Jon obeys, because fuck, what else can he do? He lets Elias guide him as he moves upright, and he chokes down air as best he can in his new position, straightening his back to try and find the most comfortable arrangement for his ribs. Elias rubs his back through it, and Jon wonders when the tides turned back from annoyance to fondness. Or perhaps he’s just being polite. 

“There you go,” Elias murmurs softly, but the sigh he gives afterwards is exasperated. “Just breathe, Jon. Focus on breathing.” 

Jon feels guilt and irritation in equal measures. “I don’t need your help with this,” he mumbles, even though the shortness of his breath gives him away. “I’ve lived with this _far_ longer than you have...” 

Still, Jon lets himself lean into Elias’s side slightly, even as the angle strains his lungs. Elias clicks his tongue at him and nudges him back upright, but he stays close, keeping himself a warm, steady presence. Guilt starts to fully nudge its way into Jon’s chest. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, shivering at the points of contact between them. 

“It’s alright, Jon,” Elias says shortly. “But I need you to quit speaking so much if you wish to get through this quickly. No more wasting your breath.” 

And he’s back to irritation. Great. Jon fixes his gaze firmly on a point on the far wall and does as he says, taking deep, methodical breaths against his straining lungs. It’s difficult, keeping track of his breaths as they come just makes him feel worse as he desperately struggles to get oxygen in his lungs, but if it keeps Elias rubbing his back and holding him like this, then he’ll comply. 

He hates that he still relies so much on his affection. But it’s not like he has anyone else. 

After a few minutes that feel like a few eternities, Jon’s breathing starts to feel a bit less shallow. It’s far from normal, still, but it’s at least manageable enough than he thinks he can—

“Do you think you can try to sleep now?” 

Jon nods. He breaks off from Elias’s side and rests back against the pillows, letting his eyes fall shut. 

“Can I sleep here?” he asks, hating the way his voice warbles. Showing Elias vulnerability is always somewhat of a gamble. 

“Of course,” Elias says, with that edge to his voice that says _Why would I say otherwise?_

“I thought you were mad at me,” Jon mumbles, shaking his head. He moves to curl in on his side, but hesitates as Elias scoffs. 

“I was. But you were angry with me first,” he says. 

“Because you—!” Jon starts, before clamping his mouth shut. Fuck, he _always_ does this. He drops to the bed with a groan, finally curling up and tucking his blanket over his head. “Can you not—I don’t want to fight you again, please...” 

Elias is quiet for a moment. Then, he sighs and turns off the light. “Alright, alright. But you did bring it up.” 

“Elias...”

Elias doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches over and tugs the blanket off of Jon’s head, letting it fall around his neck. 

“You should keep this off of your face for now. You don’t want to restrict your oxygen levels, after all,” he murmurs. He wraps an arm around Jon, pulling him close, and Jon tenses for a moment, before pressing closer. He inhales weakly, letting himself appreciate the warmth. 

They go quiet for a moment. 

Then, Elias says: “I do love you.” 

Jon stays quiet for a moment, considering. He traces his fingertip over the pinstripes on Elias’s pajamas, illuminated by the moonlight. 

“I love you too,” he mumbles back, finally. “And I’m...I’m sorry if I was difficult. I don’t mean to be...” _You just make it hard sometimes._

Elias hums, and then nods, tucking Jon’s head under his chin. “Well, I understand. We can’t always be expected to act our best when we’re in pain,” he says placatingly. “But...I do wish you’d try to be better.” 

Jon shivers again, and he presses himself closer. “I will,” he mumbles, ignoring the heaviness in his chest. “Really.” 

“Okay,” Elias says quietly. He presses a long, lingering kiss to Jon’s head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Sleep well, darling.” 

“You too, Elias,” Jon whispers. And he tries to do just that, shutting his eyes and tucking himself further into Elias’s chest. 

And yet the tightness in his own remains. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk what it is about my own breathing problems that makes me think of these two but here you go lmao


End file.
